Wheels
by Mercedes1312
Summary: What happens when a woman with a disability needs some help? RasaXOC, but not very romantic. Just some fluff. R&R please.


**AN: **A Dance Central oneshot from yours truly (STILL suck at titles). It takes place during The Pivots (Chapter 11). My muse wanted it to be a GlitchXOC but I rebelled and so used Rasa. But I'm really proud on how this turned out though it's short so enjoy.

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_** Wheels**_

I lifted myself out of the waiting room chair and set myself on my wheelchair. Then I tugged against the wheels to get myself moving. The doctor had called me for my daily checkups. After he examined me for any out of the ordinary, he escorted me to my car. I still don't see why I have to have these checkups but my Mother insisted. My Samsung phone beeped.

**Nancy, go pick up my groceries and meet me at the apartment – Mother**

I sighed and started my car. Doesn't she get I'm handicapped? She treats like both a kid and an adult you could say. She fusses over every little thing and yet for things like mailing her postcards to Father in the post office she treats as if I could walk.

I brushed my light blonde hair out of my face and drive ten miles due east to the grocery. I drove to the car park and parked. I grabbed my wheelchair, opened it and heaved myself on it. I then closed the door and locked the car.

I wheeled myself to the grocery, picked up the groceries and wheeled back. As I went, people kept bumping and tripping over me. I apologize quickly, struggling to hold the groceries on my lap and moving myself. When I reached my car, unlocked the car door, opened it, climbed in, closed the wheelchair and put it in the backseat. I closed the door and started the car.

I drove back the expensive hotel my Mother and I lived and parked the car on the space reserved for handicapped people like me. Once I was on my wheelchair, I took the grocery bags out of the trunk and closed it, while unlocking my car doors. Then I wheeled myself up the little concrete hill leading to the hotel.

I gripped the large groceries in my arms. Some were on the bottom of the wheelchair that was reserved for bags but I still had to hold some. People in the lobby, stared at me as I moved towards the elevator.

"The elevator has broken down," the hotel manager told me. "You'll have to take the stairs."

"Are you insane?" I snapped, glaring at him. "I can't do that without some assistance!"

"No worries, your Mother has sent someone. Mr. Fernandes do come."

My hazel eyes surveyed the man from head to toe. He was tall, had tan skin, black hair and green eyes. He wore a black suit with a blue tie.

He stared down at me.

"Is this Miss Callaway?" he asked the manager.

"Yes, please take her upstairs to her mother."

The stranger walked towards me and I flinched, my nostrils flaring.

"Whoa! Excuse me, I don't know this guy!" I shouted. "For all I know he could be a burglar! Or even worse, a burglar _and _a rapist!"

People gasped but I ignored them. The manager sighed and said, "Miss Callaway, this is not the time for one of your tantrums."

"I'm not throwing any tantrums!"

"It's alright Mr. Dennis," the man said, smiling gently. He stooped to my level, took out a wallet and opened it to reveal a badge.

"I'm a cop, in fact the Police Chief," he pointed at the badge and I glanced at it.

"It could be fake!" I snapped and the manager sighed in exasperation.

"It's not fake." The walkie talkie on his hip buzzed and he spoke on it, ordering his constable to investigate a burglary.

"It could be an act," I amended, glaring at him.

"You're a tough nut to crack Miss Callaway," the man commented, chuckling. "But your Mother sent me here to help you and so I shall. Besides, how are you getting up that stairs without my help? Are you willing to wait here for six hours while they repair the elevator?"

Dang it. He had a valid point. I gritted my teeth in anger.

"Fine."

The man took the grocery bags from my aching arms and gave them to the manager. The manager then put the bags behind a small door in the wall and clicked on a button. He was transporting the bags to my Mother's room. The man went behind and began pushing me towards to the stairs. When we got there, and I turned around and he clicked on the levers on the bottom of my chair so it can go up the steps. He began to pull me up. Moreover, for what I counted, there were thirty steps.

Oh Gosh.

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The man panted as he reached the last step and pulled me up. He was sweating profusely and I took out a water bottle from my handbag and offered.

"Here, drink," I whispered. "It's new so I haven't drunk any."

He raised his eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like me."

"You worked hard. Just take the bottle."

He took it, opened it and began to drink lightly but he drank half of the bottle in one gulp. He took out a handkerchief from his shirt and began mopping his face.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

"A little," he answered. "Thank you, Miss Callaway."

"Call me Nancy. Miss Callaway is too formal. You are not my aunt. Come on."

He bent down and pushed the levers so I can move.

He escorted me to the apartment, which was the last number. I unlocked the door and wheeled in, with the man following me.

My Mother was there, on her rocking chair, stroking her fat cat's white fur. Her hazel eyes darted from the man to me.

"Good, you brought her up. Your pay is in the Fikias," she crackled.

The man sighed and dug in the plants.

"And you, young lady," she snapped, looking at me with contempt. "Get to your studies and get in your bed by seven."

I nodded. "Yes Mother."

The man finally found his money and nodded curtly to my Mother. He walked out and closed the door.

My Mother ignored me as she took her cat and went to her bedroom, swinging the door shut behind her. I tugged my wheels quickly, opened the door and wheeled quickly.

"Wait!" I called. "Wait!"

The man whirled around and I bumped into him, one of the wheels squishing his foot. He hissed in pain and I rolled off.

"Sorry. But I have one question to ask you. What's your name? I told you mine."

The man raised his eyebrow, shook his head and then smiled.

"Rasa. My name is Rasa."

I smiled, pleased. I waved to him and he waved back. I rolled back home quickly before my Mother noticed I was gone.

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**AN: **Meet Nancy Callaway, a handicapped woman from a rich family, aged twenty-one. Unlike my other OCs and many other OCs around here, she can't walk, therefore she can't dance. I'm proud to be her creator and I hoped you enjoy this. I am planning to make more Nancy-Rasa oneshots and YES Nancy will appear later on in The Pivots.


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